


A Win-Win Situation

by prozacplease



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Belly Kink, Enemas, HYDRA Trash Party, Inflation, M/M, Sadism, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prozacplease/pseuds/prozacplease
Summary: Rumlow uses his favorite torture method on the asset.





	

Bucky’s stomach is a pit of cold dread when Rumlow places a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing tightly enough that it hurts. Bucky knew he was doomed the moment his knife found its mark in their target’s throat, as opposed to a limb or even the torso. He rarely misses, but his aim was thrown off by an explosion. Excuses like that are meaningless within HYDRA. He killed a target that was supposed to be captured alive. 

“I gotta say, I really don’t like gettin’ my ass chewed for somethin’ you did,” Rumlow says, grip tightening on the nape of Bucky’s neck as he marches him down the dimly lit hallway. 

“Sorry, sir—” 

Bucky’s voice is cut off by a sharp punch that he never sees coming. The boniest part of Rumlow’s fist makes contact with Bucky’s left kidney and he knows that he’s going to be pissing blood. Rumlow stops in the middle of the hallway, forcing Bucky’s head down so he’s looking at the floor. 

“Did I ask you a fucking question? Did I tell you to fucking speak?” Rumlow yells in Bucky’s ear. 

This time, Bucky has permission to respond. “No, sir.” 

Rumlow says nothing and continues guiding Bucky down the hallway. They reach a steel door reinforced with rusted rivets and Rumlow bangs on it once before entering. Flickering fluorescent lights illuminate a filthy machine shop, full of hulking pieces of equipment that look more like torture devices. There is a drill press spattered with what appears to be dried blood and gray matter. A large table saw seems to have been used the same way.

Bucky grows tense with fear and has to resist his basic instinct to fight, to run. His eyes fall on Rollins, who is standing over a deep utility sink near the industrial parts washer. The water is running but Bucky can’t figure out why; Rollins doesn’t appear to be washing his hands. 

“Are you ready?” Rumlow asks, still holding onto the back of Bucky’s neck. 

Rollins doesn’t look up from the sink. “Almost.” 

“I want that water cold,” Rumlow says. 

“It’s plenty cold,” Rollins says evenly. “There’s some dish soap in it, too.” 

He turns off the water and sets aside what looks like a large hot water bottle before coming over to where Rumlow and Bucky are standing. Bucky still hasn’t put together what horror he’s in for tonight. All he knows is that it’s going to be bad, whatever it is. 

“How ya want him?” Rollins asks, pulling on a pair of black mechanic’s gloves. 

Rumlow nods toward the engine hoist, a steel contraption with a large metal hook hanging off it. “String him up by his hands,” he says, shoving Bucky toward his second-in-command. 

Rollins catches Bucky by the shoulders, holding him in place. “Wanna suspend him?” 

“No, just make it uncomfortable for him,” Rumlow orders. 

Rollins gives a nod. He can manage that. Rumlow stays nearby, but doesn’t do much to help. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches Rollins fasten Bucky’s hands together with zipties. Rollins uses a heavy chain to tether Bucky to the hook. 

Bucky offers no resistance when Rollins roughly positions him. Fighting back will only get him in more trouble. It’s best to just accept the punishment. 

“Up we go,” Rollins says, walking over to the lever for the hydraulic jack. “Say when.” 

Bucky grimaces as his arms are forced high above his head, and it’s not long before his shoulders are lanced with burning pain. His metal arm makes a grinding noise in complaint. It takes several pumps for Bucky to be jacked high enough to satisfy Rumlow. He tells Rollins to stop when Bucky’s feet are just barely touching the floor. Bucky struggles minutely, the toes of his boots scuffling for more purchase on the grimy concrete floor. It’s futile. He winces when Rollins locks the hoist into place. He’s not going anywhere. 

Rumlow looks at Bucky admiringly. “Perfect,” he says. 

Bucky tries to turn away when Rumlow moves in close, but he’s immobilized. Rumlow undoes Bucky’s belt and tugs it out of the loops, opens his button-up fly. He yanks Bucky’s fatigues down past the curve of his ass and leaves them there.

Bucky looks over Rumlow’s shoulder and sees that Rollins has brought over the bag he was filling up. He is also holding a coiled loop of clear plastic tubing with a nozzle at the end. Bucky suddenly realizes what they’re going to do to him and lets out a terrified wail. Rumlow makes an exaggerated sad face, mocking him. 

“No, no, no,” Bucky starts begging. The chain wrapped around his hands jangles as he shifts. 

Rumlow laughs as he takes a step back. “Cry all ya want,” he says, pulling on a pair of gloves similar to his partner’s. “Nobody’s gonna hear ya.” 

The truth is, Bucky could kill them and escape if he wanted. He can snap necks as easily as he can break zipties and chains, but he wouldn’t get far. He never does. And such a grievous episode of misbehavior would only result in more punishment. It always does. Bucky feels hopeless as he watches Rumlow slick the strange nozzle with some lubricant. 

“You know what this is?” Rumlow asks, looking at the greased up tubing. 

Bucky doesn’t know specifically, but he has a vague idea. He shakes his head furiously, as if he can rattle the sick notion right out of his skull. 

“Double balloon nozzle. For retention enemas. When I put this inside you, nothing’s coming out until I say so,” Rumlow says. “So don’t bother clenching up or bearing down, yeah?” 

Bucky doesn’t have to speak, but he acknowledges Rumlow with a nod. 

“Spot me,” Rumlow says to Rollins. 

With Rollins watching, he steps behind the asset and roughly parts his cheeks with a gloved hand. Bucky yelps as the hard plastic tip of the nozzle is forced inside his ass. Despite being deflated, the first balloon is large and its intrusion makes Bucky hiss in pain. Rumlow uses the two attached bulb pumps to inflate the balloons, one inside Bucky’s ass and one outside. They create a tight seal, which Rumlow checks by wiggling the nozzle. 

Rumlow motions for Rollins to bring him the bag and he hangs it next to Bucky’s head. A clamp on the tubing prevents the soapy water from entering Bucky right away. Rumlow draws his sharpest knife and cuts away Bucky’s t-shirt, tossing the ruined fabric aside. He can’t have any clothing obscuring what he wants to see. 

“Let’s do this,” Rumlow says, reaching up to release the clamp. He looks over his shoulder and takes a few steps back until he’s abreast with Rollins. 

Bucky stares at the floor as he feels the cold water start to rush into him. At first it’s just an impression of fullness with a hint of an internal chill, like a sudden shiver. But the pressure increases rapidly and it’s not long before Bucky feels the first stab of a cramp in his lower abdomen. He knows that rubbing will help ease a knotted muscle, but there is no way for him to relieve his pain with his hands bound. Bucky growls and shifts in discomfort.

“Please… please stop…” he says. 

“Already? We’re just getting started,” Rumlow says in mock disappointment. 

Bucky gasps as his bowels start to react to the dish soap mixed in with the water, which adds a terrible sense of urgency to his mounting pain. Sweat is beading on his forehead, gathering in the small of his back. Another cramp slices into him, more intense this time. Bucky groans out loud. 

“He’s already pushing out a little,” Rollins comments. 

Rumlow’s response is full of sadistic glee. “Yeah, he is.” 

Sure enough, Bucky can feel the water expanding his stomach, bloating him. It’s horrific, being stretched from the inside like this. Bucky squirms fretfully, turning his sweaty face against his right arm. He makes another noise, loud enough to echo off the walls of the machine shop. 

“You think he can handle it all?” Rollins asks. 

“He’s gonna either way,” Rumlow says with a shrug. 

Through snippets of overheard conversation, Bucky has learned that this is Rumlow’s favorite torture method. There’s only one reason why. The keening cries and tumid bellies arouse him. It excites him to watch someone take a huge enema, especially if they have no choice in the matter. 

Rollins gives a laugh. “You’re fucked up.” 

Rumlow just grins, keeping his eyes on Bucky and his bulging midsection. 

Bucky's guts continue to swell and he cries out, twisting his agonized body in an involuntary effort to control the pain. He’s desperate to move his bowels, release the awful tension. At this point, he wouldn’t even care if he had to do it right in front of Rumlow and Rollins. Bucky’s lower belly is growing tight and round, filling out as the water moves higher up inside him. He feels like he’s going to burst. 

“Please!” Bucky says sharply. His voice rises into a yell as he continues. “I can’t, I really can’t—!” 

All this squawking makes Rumlow’s cock twitch. “You’re barely even halfway, babydoll,” he says, glancing up at the bag. 

Bucky is utterly defeated by this information. It feels like there’s nowhere for the water to go. But it continues to rush into his body, creating an immense pressure that Bucky can’t escape.

He howls in pain when another cramp seizes him. The pain is so sharp that Bucky wonders if his insides are rupturing. Even Rollins hears the worrisome edge in Bucky's voice and wonders if they should stop. Bucky looks plenty full to him. 

"You know, Pierce ain't gonna be too happy if we pop him," he says. 

Rumlow snorts. "He's got plenty of room left in his belly. Trust me. You've seen what they look like when I'm done with 'em." 

"Yeah, didn't you kill one of them like this?"

"That was water poisoning. I just made 'em hold it for too long. Honest mistake." 

"Man, he's gettin' big though," Rollins says. 

"Looks pregnant, huh?" 

Indeed, Bucky's stomach is protruding in front of him, standing out against the bony juts of his ribs and pelvis. Rumlow has a hunger in his eyes that petrifies Bucky. He whimpers in fear when the man approaches, pulling off his black gloves as he saunters over. He tries to move away, but succeeds only in disturbing the soapy contents of his painfully distended abdomen. Tears sting his eyes. 

“You’re nice and tight,” Rumlow says, placing an appraising hand on the curve of Bucky’s stomach. 

Bucky can feel Rumlow’s hot breath on his face, see the erection tenting the crotch of his fatigues. He turns his head, but Rumlow grabs his chin with his free hand. 

“It’s a win-win, really. You get punished and I get off,” Rumlow says. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says. He’s sobbing now, babbling nonsense. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, I bet you’re real sorry now, huh?” Rumlow asks. 

He slides his hand downward, pressing against Bucky’s cramped lower abdomen. The noise Bucky makes in response isn’t human—an animal shriek that makes Rumlow’s cockhead leak precome. His cry breaks off into sobs when Rumlow lets go of his chin and places both hands on his still-expanding stomach. He starts rubbing again, thumbs pressing into the taut flesh as he moves them in circles. 

“I think I can feel you gettin’ bigger,” he practically purrs. 

Bucky can hardly breathe around his swollen guts. “I can’t hold it,” he moans. 

“You don’t have to. That’s what the balloon is for. I promise you’re fine. You could even take more if I wanted you to,” Rumlow says, voice syrupy as he continues to touch Bucky’s belly with both hands. “But scream all you want. That gets me real hot.”

Bucky struggles against his restraints, writhing uncontrollably from the pain in his shoulders and abdomen. Rumlow can’t torture Bucky and keep him still at the same time, so he motions for Rollins to come over. 

“Hold him for me,” Rumlow demands. 

Rollins moves to take his place behind Bucky. Surprisingly, this isn’t the first time he’s done this. 

“And don’t trip on the tubing, for the love of God,” Rumlow adds. 

Rollins places his gloved hands on Bucky’s sides and gives him a warning squeeze. His fingertips dig into Bucky’s stomach and make him whine. 

“You kick either one of us and I’ll make you very sorry,” Rumlow says. 

Being immobilized just makes Bucky more distraught and he weeps freely. His abdomen is rigid, completely solid. It doesn't jiggle when Rumlow gives it a few sharp slaps with his palm. Bucky yelps and Rumlow gives a soft, horny groan. Bucky has taken nearly all of the enema, but Rumlow isn’t going to let him have the comfort of that knowledge. He wants Bucky on that frantic edge of panic. 

“I’m going to burst!” Bucky yells through tears. 

Bucky talking about how full he is—and being terrified of exploding—is too much for Rumlow. He yanks open his fly and pulls out his cock, which is heavy and aching for attention. Rumlow starts to jerk himself off in quick, loose strokes. He can’t help the noises that spill out of him when he places his free hand on Bucky’s firm middle once more. 

Rumlow slides his fingertips down the midline of Bucky’s abdomen as he masturbates. He traces over Bucky’s navel, which is shallower than normal thanks to the distension of his intestines. Bucky squirms and cries out when Rumlow cruelly hooks a finger inside his bellybutton, digging into the sensitive area and pulling upward. 

Disturbing the large nerve that runs up the center of Bucky’s overstretched midsection is more painful than being pressed on or slapped. Bucky screams and thrashes, but Rollins only grips his sweaty sides tighter. That noise, in combination with Bucky’s body taking in the last of the enema, brings Rumlow to completion.

“Oh, fuck… fuck…” he gasps, pawing at the smooth curve of Bucky’s lower abdomen as he comes. 

Bucky is nauseous when he feels the spurts warm semen splatter against his belly. The biggest glob of it drips down into his navel and Bucky shudders. It’s a reminder that he deserves it. He fucked up. This is his punishment. 

Bucky is still consumed by the urgent need to release the huge load inside him, still agonized by the cramps and pressure. However, he can no longer feel water entering him. It was a huge amount, but he managed to take it all. Maybe it’s over now that Rumlow has climaxed. Maybe Rollins will let go of him and maybe Rumlow will pull the tubing out. 

“I think I’ll fuck you in the ass next,” Rumlow muses. He is flushed and breathing rapidly, still milking the last few drops of come out of his spent cock. “Gonna take me a little while to get it up again, though. Guess you’ll just have to wait.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](http://www.prozacplease.tumblr.com)
> 
> ♥ Comments are always appreciated. ♥


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